Betrayal
by M. Scott Eiland
Summary: Willow, seeking power, comes upon a truly dark tome, and makes a fateful choice. Followup to Dark Bargain.
1. Part I

Summary: Willow, seeking power, comes upon a truly dark tome, and makes a fateful choice. Follow-up to "Dark Bargain."  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters portrayed here, they remain the property of their respective owners/creators.  
  
Rating: PG-13, for themes.  
  
Time Frame: During "Two to Go," with changes in the timeline to reflect my earlier story "Dark Bargain." (spoilers)  
  
Archiving: Be my guest, but e-mail me ( eilandesq@charter.net ) to let me know. . .I like to know where stuff I write ends up and I might want to see what else you've got.  
  
Author's Note: Anyone who is used to more mellow stories from me is forewarned: this one is dark. Really, really dark. Don't say I didn't warn you. : - )  
  
  
  
  
BETRAYAL  
  
  
Part I  
  
  
Willow released Rack, and the demon magic pusher's husk dropped to the ground with a hollow thump. She spared the corpse only a single contemptuous glance before turning away and contemplating the feelings that the new power coursing through her was causing her to experience. She smiled coldly as she recognized the remnants of her own personal energies that Rack had stolen from her five months before. * He was right: I did taste of strawberries * She dismissed the thought and sighed in contentment as she allowed the stolen power to permeate every part of her body. She felt her senses sharpen, and her earlier fatigue from chasing Xander, Buffy, and the survivors of the Geek Trio vanished. At first, she was inclined to simply resume the chase, but she hesitated: Xander and Buffy were nothing if not resourceful, and they might be able to hold her off long enough for this new power source to be depleted as well. The infusion of dark magic, now reinforced, had intensified Willow's arrogance about her abilities, but she had known Buffy for far too long to dismiss her ability to overcome apparently impossible odds, particularly when she had help. * I need more power. It's out there-I just need to find it *  
  
Willow closed her eyes and reached out with her magical senses, seeking sources of power. The Hellmouth itself screamed out with unimaginable power, but she dismissed that source immediately: the only way to tap it would be to open it, and she would never be able to master it in time to avoid being overwhelmed by the flood of demons that would inevitably emerge as a result of the opening. She sensed several sources of power at some distance, including a rapidly waxing one many miles to the east, but she would have to travel to them to tap them, giving Buffy time to firm up her own defensive preparations. The young witch was becoming frustrated when she sensed the barest whispers of dark magic coming from behind what appeared to be a very powerful warding spell. Willow chuckled as she realized where the emanations were coming from, and what they undoubtedly represented: * Beloved, you really should have been more careful about hiding those. . .or simply had the sense to burn them *  
  
Willow contemplated simply flying to the Summers house, but the challenge of defeating Tara's wards from where she stood was irresistible to her. She closed her eyes again and focused her will on the wards. At first, the wards remained unmoved, and Willow redoubled her efforts, feeling sweat begin to trickle down her brow and back. The silent battle went on for long seconds, and Willow was about to scream in frustration and cease her efforts when there was a bright flash of light, which left two large tomes bound in black hide sitting in front of the witch.  
  
Willow took a moment to let her pulse slow, then knelt in front of the tomes, examining them. She could feel power coming off of them in dark waves that caused her to feel dizzy and exhilarated at the same time. She took a breath, then noted their size: simple study would take her weeks, if not months to learn their secrets. She had absorbed the knowledge in the Magic Box's black magic books with the effect of a few moments, but would that method suffice for tomes as powerful as these? * Only one way to find out * She reached out and placed her hands on the inky black covers of the books, and began once again to concentrate. She felt an instant of primal terror, and it took every bit of her determination to keep from hurling the books away from her and fleeing the room. After a moment, she composed herself, set her jaw, and focused her entire will towards the goal of absorbing the power within the Tomes of the Dalorian Necromancer.  
  
At that moment, Willow Rosenberg-beloved friend to the Slayer and her companions, and tireless defender of the world as she knew it-was irrevocably doomed.  
  
The Tomes were the creation of a powerful fiend who sacrificed its very existence to create a persistent source of evil that would forever threaten the existence of the worlds where the Tomes were placed. It was only through the willing sacrifice of an equally powerful champion of good that the Tomes of the Nemesis were formed, leading to a long-running series of battles that doomed some worlds to lasting darkness, while others merely weathered a periodic flirtation with apocalypse at the hands of the current Necromancer. One of the few saving graces of the ghastly power of the Tomes was that it more often than not sent the would-be adept fleeing to retain whatever sanity they possessed. It wasn't necessarily a matter of how evil the individual was; rather, it was that the fate of whoever finished absorbing the knowledge of the Tomes became very clear to the practitioner before the point of no return was reached, and many blinked, then departed to cleanse themselves of the dark secrets they had already learned. It was only the most power hungry, or mad, or simply desperate individuals (such as the alternate Tara) who chose to go past the point of no return, and were lost. Willow's extraordinary gifts--which had enabled her to absorb in seconds what would take well-trained but less talented witches years to master--bypassed all of the false starts, all of the doubts, all of the sheer horror at what she was learning that any other being navigating the dark works would have experienced, and directed the entire dark power of the Tomes into her mind in the blink of an eye, reducing the volumes to fetid ash as the lights dimmed and a wave of pure evil force blasted forth from her, arousing the stuporous magic addicts in Rack's lobby and causing them to flee from the building in terror without knowing what was causing the reaction.  
  
Willow was in pain, and she was gradually realizing that she had just made a horrible mistake. The pain distracted her from her thirst for vengeance and power momentarily, and granted her a moment of absolute clarity: she could see what was about to happen to her, and what the likely consequences to everything she had ever known would be. After a timeless moment of sheer horror, she gathered every erg of power that she could muster to prevent that dark fate from taking place.  
  
From Willow's point of view, the experience was much akin to being in a room where the floor was gradually being painted, blocking the doorway and inexorably forcing her back towards a corner with no way of escape. She summoned spirit cleansing magics that would have obliterated most curses or magical infirmities, but the inky blackness kept forcing her to retreat, and before long the part of Willow that was still somewhat akin to who she had been was backed into a corner of her mind, staring into the abyss.  
  
Willow knew that her time had come, and it took only an instant more for her to choose obliteration rather than let the evil force win. She exerted herself once more, causing the advancing darkness to slow briefly, then withdrew all of her resistance, allowing the dark force to rush at her with no apparent barrier in its path. Just before it reached her, Willow wove one last spell and whispered a brief prayer.  
  
The black energy enveloped what was the last vestige of the being who had been Willow Rosenberg; at the same time, it flowed into the spell that Willow had completed as her final conscious act. A few milliseconds later, the spell reached its threshold energy and erupted in an eerily silent burst of crimson fire that vaporized everything in its path.  
  
The force was almost exclusively directed upwards and horizontally, sparing the inhabitants of Sunnydale the indignity of having their pipes and utility lines severed, but every structure within one hundred yards was reduced to dust that came tumbling down with a low roar. Thanks to the hour of the night, and the fact that Rack's customers had fled moments before, the living casualties of the event were limited to insects, pigeons, and a stray kitten that had the misfortune to wander into the area seconds before the spell went off.  
  
It was ten minutes before the majority of the dust had ceased to fall, and five minutes more before the form in the center of the destruction stirred within the shallow crater. She shook her head, and the dust fell away from her body as if repelled by electricity, leaving her nude except for the aura of flickering darkness that now enveloped her. Willow's eyes remained closed as she got to her feet, and she whispered to herself as she stretched. She opened her eyes, and they remained as black and fathomless as they had been before, but with an extra air of malice. She glanced down at herself and noted her nudity, and appeared to consider the situation for a moment before waving a hand and summoning a shimmering black gown that fitted her like a second skin, creating a stark contrast with her pale skin and accentuating the effect of the inky radiance that was coming from her. Other than the faint whisper of the remaining dust falling to the ground, there was absolute silence. Abruptly, Willow turned, surveying the devastation around her, and her only reaction was a very slight smile before she made a casual gesture and vanished in a flash of crimson fire that continued to repel the dust for a moment before giving way and filling in the space where a monstrously powerful being had just been.  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
When Buffy found Clem and Dawn, they were staring at the cloud of dust that obscured everything in a three block radius. Clem spotted Buffy, nodded at her, then ran off, fear further distorting his features. Buffy looked at Dawn briefly, shook her head in annoyance, and led her back towards the Magic Box, glancing back once at the huge cloud before turning back and urging Dawn along.  
  
When they arrived back at the store, they found Xander sitting on the floor, cradling Anya in his arms as he alternated his attention between the unconscious demon and the visibly shaken Jonathan and Andrew. Buffy ran up to Xander and demanded, "What happened to her? Has Willow been here?" She turned to the survivors of the Geek Trio and added, "Did they do something?"  
  
"Other than shrieking and cowering, no." Buffy took irrational comfort from the note of dark humor in Xander's voice, and waited for him to continue: "Willow hasn't been here, either. Anya just gasped and fainted. As far as I can tell, she's fine; then again, I'm not exactly up on what's normal for a vengeance demon. She's breathing, warm, and not bleeding: I'm guessing she just needs to recover from whatever made her faint."  
  
The silence was broken by Dawn asking, "Anya's a vengeance demon again?"  
  
Xander and Buffy exchanged long-suffering looks, then the Slayer turned back to her visibly nervous sister and replied, "She's helping us for now: once we help Willow, we'll deal with the Anya situation-preferably without apocalyptic consequences." Dawn nodded, and Buffy went into the back room of the store and retrieved a wet washcloth and a glass of water, which she handed to Xander. He smiled and placed the washcloth on Anya's forehead. Minutes passed, while Dawn fidgeted and Buffy became increasingly frustrated. Jonathan began fidgeting, and eventually Buffy turned on him and snapped, "Jonathan, I really don't want to put up with any more of your crap right now. Sit down and stay quiet."  
  
"Well, I don't really want to die, and-believe it or not-I don't want you to get killed trying to protect me. In case you've forgotten, I've stuck my neck out twice now to help save you when Warren and his pet monkey over here wanted you dead. Anya's out, and neither of you can read that damned book-let me try. What is there to lose?" Jonathan locked eyes with the angry Slayer, fear warring with determination on his face. He saw her face soften, but there was still doubt there, and he added in a more gentle tone: "I don't want to kill Willow, but stopping her from killing any of us sounds like a really good plan." He blinked, then looked down for a moment before looking back up at her and concluding quietly, "Let me help, Buffy."  
  
Buffy blinked, sighed, then turned to Xander, who frowned for a moment before nodding. Buffy turned back to Jonathan, who was standing at attention, ignoring the angry glare from Andrew. She nodded once at him, then carried the book over to him and ordered, "Work over at the table: let us know if you need any materials." Jonathan nodded, and turned to go over to the table, only to be stopped in his tracks by Buffy's menacing conclusion: "Jonathan, if you cross me one more time, and Willow doesn't kill you-I will. Don't doubt it."  
  
Jonathan looked back at Buffy and met her eyes again before nodding and sitting down at the table, reaching for a pencil and notepad. Buffy shook her head, then turned back to see Anya stirring, and quickly moved across the room and knelt next to the reviving vengeance demon. She waited for Anya's eyelids to begin fluttering, then called out, "Anya, are you all right?"  
  
Anya's eyes snapped open, and she abruptly stood up, her eyes darting about wildly. She visibly paused to compose herself, then turned back to Buffy with an expression that made the Slayer involuntarily take a step back. She had seen Anya afraid, angry, and in any number of other emotional states, but she had never seen the demon in a state of sheer horror. Anya shook her head and whispered, "No, I'm not. None of us are. We're going to need help, and the only person who could help us. . .is dead."  
  
Buffy and Xander looked at each other in confusion, then back to Anya, and Xander broke the brief silence by stating, "Anya, you're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"  
  
"Me."  
  
A brief flicker of red light accompanied the monosyllable, and everyone present slowly turned to the front door. Willow stood there, dressed in glittering black and cloaked in flickering darkness. It took only an instant for Buffy and Xander to recognize the visual effects and make the connection to what Anya had just said, and Buffy was completely unable to prevent the cry of anguish that burst out of her as she stared at what had been her best friend.   
  
Willow noted the reaction and smiled coldly, looking over the visibly horrified occupants of the room before walking forward, her bearing that of a queen surveying her realm. She stopped a few feet in front of Buffy and commented, "A funny thing happened to me after you left me with that truck. . .I found these nifty books that Tara had hidden away, and they had all sorts of dark secrets that were just perfect for my plans." The Dalorian Necromancer smiled again, then added, "Oh, she had some other books hidden away-I think she meant to use them to train her successor as the Nemesis. Pity she never got around to that. Oh well, they made a nice little pile of ashes."  
  
Willow looked around the room, seeing four horrified expressions and two confused and terrified ones. She chuckled low in her throat, then concluded, "So, since stopping me is no longer an option, I just gotta ask-what are you going to do now, Slayer?"  
  
Buffy locked eyes with Willow, giving her the glare that had sent rooms full of vampires into blind flight, that had stopped ten foot tall demons in their tracks. . .and saw absolutely no reaction in the inky black eyes of the Dalorian Necromancer. She held her face absolutely still, but in the depths of her mind, the answer to Willow's question echoed quietly:  
  
* Hell if I know *  
  
  
  
. . .to be continued  
  
  
  
As before, comments are welcome and desired. 


	2. Part II

Summary: Willow, seeking power, comes upon a truly dark tome, and makes a fateful choice. Follow-up to "Dark Bargain."  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters portrayed here, they remain the property of their respective owners/creators.  
  
Rating: PG-13, for themes.  
  
Time Frame: During "Two to Go," with changes in the timeline to reflect my earlier story "Dark Bargain." (spoilers)  
  
Archiving: Be my guest, but e-mail me ( eilandesq@charter.net ) to let me know. . .I like to know where stuff I write ends up and I might want to see what else you've got.  
  
Author's Note: Anyone who is used to more mellow stories from me is forewarned: this one is dark. Really, really dark. Don't say I didn't warn you. : - )  
  
  
  
  
BETRAYAL  
  
  
Part II  
  
  
Willow waited for a moment, glancing from face to face to see if any of her former friends would answer her challenge, but none did. She chuckled and commented, "I'm disappointed: none of you can come up with a decent show of bravado for an old buddy, or even an insult or two? No wonder things have gotten so screwed up here in the last year: no one has that good old fashioned work ethic that made this country great any more." She turned to Jonathan, who was putting up a valiant effort to hide the terror he was feeling, but failing. The Dalorian Necromancer raised a delicate eyebrow and called out mockingly, "And what's this? You've got one of the Geeks on research detail: that's pretty pathetic, Buffy. What's next, having Dawn stand in front of you with a big pointy sword? What, did you give him the big speech about the need to choose a side and how this would make him a better person?"  
  
Buffy set her jaw, and turned to give Jonathan a look of unalloyed support before she turned back and replied coldly, "He asked to help, even when I didn't want him to. Sound familiar?"  
  
Willow nodded slowly, then gestured casually to her left. Andrew, who had been sneaking towards the front door, was abruptly caged in a black, translucent cube of force with sides of about seven feet. She gestured again, and Jonathan was confined in a somewhat smaller cube. Dawn gasped, and Willow grinned widely and commented, "Now, that's better. We can't have dangerous criminals running about loose, can we? That would be dangerous, and wrong."  
  
"Willow, let them out." There was no snap in Buffy's voice: she sounded tired and beaten, but her eyes remained intense as she added, "They can't hurt anyone now, and they weren't the ones who hurt me and Tara."  
  
Willow snickered and replied casually, "What do I care about that? I've had time to think, and Tara got off lightly. She died quickly and quietly, with very little suffering. Odds are, she's going to be better off than any of you in this room are going to be in that department. I just don't want them wandering around and annoying me."  
  
"Give me a break: why are all of you standing here listening to this crap?"  
  
Everyone turned to Andrew, who had voiced the angry question. Buffy tensed, but Willow's reaction was not a killing spell, but a slow turn and smile as she asked quietly, "I'm sorry, did you have a complaint you wished to issue about your accommodations? I like to think I keep a clean house."  
  
Andrew snorted angrily, and his tone-though a bit shrill-conveyed that anger effectively as he snapped, "What is wrong with you people? You've stopped every nasty thing that's come to this town for six years now: I've heard all the stories. You're standing there like she's some eighteen foot tall two-headed demon prince: just kill her already!"  
  
"Andrew, shut up!" Buffy was really reaching the point where she didn't care much if Andrew suffered Warren's fate, but she had a feeling that the geek's outburst was leading up to something far more terrible. "You don't understand what's happened-"  
  
"Of course he doesn't: he's an idiot. I'll spell it out for him in nice short words." Willow looked at Andrew as if he was an insect, than continued in a loud, patronizing voice, "Andrew, I've absorbed the most powerful evil tomes in this entire dimension. I have power over life, death, and unlife for every being in this town, and far beyond; better yet, I no longer have a soul or any other moral constraints that might keep me from having deriving a truly massive amount of entertainment from these powers. You know, the soul I had when I skinned Warren and reduced him to a pile of ashes? Gone. I'm really quite happy about the whole thing now, though it was touch and go there for a while. Had a bit of buyer's remorse, tried to do the noble thing and remove the threat to all humanity and all that." She shook her head in simple disbelief and concluded, "God, I was an idiot." Willow seemed lost in memories for a moment, then looked back at Andrew and asked, "Got the picture, monkey boy?"  
  
Andrew stared back at her for a moment, then began giggling in a high-pitched, rapid manner that announced madness. Willow watched him with the expression of a sculptor looking at a promising piece of her work, while Buffy and the others stood transfixed, waiting for what would undoubtedly be a terrible conclusion to this confrontation. Andrew shrieked, "It's all crap! I know a stupid fake light show when I see one. I'm going to walk right through your stupid barrier, then I'm going to do what I wanted to do in the first place if your stupid friends would have let me-summon a demon to kill your skanky ass!" Buffy started forward, not knowing what she would do, but it was too late: Andrew stepped towards the flickering barrier, took a final step. . .and passed through, moving a few feet away from the cube as it flickered once more and vanished. He turned back to the watching Dalorian Necromancer, and looked more confident than anyone present could remember seeing him as he snickered and asked, "Is that all you've got, bitch? Here, try mine!"  
  
Andrew began muttering the first syllables of his most potent demon summoning spell, watching Willow and getting ready to dodge if she threw a spell his way. Willow seemed content to watch, and the others in the room seemed disinclined to approach him. He laughed inwardly and continued to cast the spell: his intense concentration caused him to ignore the growing numbness in his left leg, and it was not until Dawn screamed and pointed at him that he started to suspect that something might be wrong. He looked down and began shrieking.  
  
A small patch of the flickering black energy had clung to his left leg, and was busily eating away fabric and flesh, causing the latter to drip from his body as a putrescent goo that created a horrible stench. Dawn turned and vomited, and some of the others would have undoubtedly followed if they had not already witnessed the earlier horror visited on Warren. Andrew frantically brushed at his leg, trying to dislodge or douse the necromantic flames, but found that they clung to his hands, causing the flesh to ooze away and reveal blackened bone. He shook his hands, causing the bare bones to rattle loudly but having no other noticeable effect as the flames licked up his arms and up and down his legs, causing him to collapse to his knees.  
  
Buffy took a step forward, only to be stopped in her tracks by an unexpected voice: "Buffy, no!" She turned and saw the appalled expression on Anya's face as she shook her head emphatically, and knew that Andrew was doomed: going to him would only cause her to share his horrid fate. She turned back to Andrew and watched as he looked at her with pleading eyes, continuing to shriek until the corruption reached his tongue and jaw. After a few more moments, he slumped to the ground, reduced to a jet-black skeleton with a few scraps of flesh clinging to the bones.  
  
There was absolute silence in the Music Box for several seconds, until Willow stepped forward and crouched next to the grisly remains: the look of the proud sculptor was back. She turned back to the transfixed observers and observed, "He really should have listened to you, Buffy. Do you ever get tired of people ignoring your advice?" She snickered at the expression of helpless outrage on her former best friend's face, and continued, "Besides, he's so much more useful this way." She leaned forward and kissed the skeleton's skull, brushing a piece of decayed flesh with her lips before withdrawing, stepping back, and calling out in a loud and terrible voice: "Arise, and attend me!"  
  
Orbs of crimson fire appeared in the skeleton's eye sockets, and it stood up, making a clattering sound as it moved over and removed a scimitar from a rack on the wall, then moved to Willow's side, blade lowered but ready. Willow ran a fingernail down the bony warrior's left arm, creating a low hiss as her black aura interacted with the foul magic animating Andrew's remains. Smiling in satisfaction, she turned and observed that Jonathan had not moved a millimeter since the barrier had gone up. The Dalorian Necromancer raised an eyebrow and commented, "Why, Jonathan, you haven't moved. Why not?"  
  
Jonathan's eyes betrayed his fear, but he straightened and managed to reply in a level voice: "I was scared of you even before you turned into a homicidal hellbitch."  
  
Willow watched Jonathan with her dark, dark eyes, then nodded solemnly and waved her hand. The black wall vanished, causing Jonathan to flinch, and it took a moment before he noticed that Willow was still watching him. Willow gestured, indicating that Jonathan should join the others, and he complied, leaning up against a wall behind Anya. Buffy glanced back at the last survivor of the Geek Trio, then shook her head in disgust and snapped, "Fine, you've proven you can kill really dumb people with the best of them, Willow. Very impressive. Why are we still here, again?"  
  
Willow snickered, then walked up next to Buffy until her aura was centimeters from Buffy's skin. The Slayer did not move, and Willow waited for a few seconds before replying, "I'd thought it would be obvious to you, Buffy. You of all people should understand why I'm here with you: every artist needs an audience, and truly great artists need loyal followers to spread the word of their greatness. I'm going to give you all the chance to join me, or die. The price of admission is to kill the ones who refuse, or die trying. Either way, you get to join me afterwards. What could be more fair than that?"  
  
"Ah, the 'Vecna Lives!' scenario. Overrated, predictable, too dependent on deus ex machina ." Jonathan's voice was a low mutter, and he flinched when Willow glared at him. Xander was unable to suppress a small grin: he had experienced much the same thought, but had not spoken.  
  
Willow held the glare for a moment, then resumed as if the interruption had not occurred: "So, who do I ask first?" Her gaze raked across the room, then focused on Jonathan, who was concentrating on being unobtrusive after his comment: "Ah, Jonathan. You're like a little Energizer Bunny: you've stumbled into the most dangerous stuff this place has to offer: Incan mummies, demon assassins, paragon spells, having me really pissed off at you-you even dated Cordelia for a while-and you just keep coming back. It's a definite talent, and once I made a few. . .modifications. . .you might actually become more useful than annoying." Jonathan swallowed hard, but remained otherwise impassive, and Willow leaned in and added in a cooing tone, "Come on, Jonathan: wouldn't it be more fun to watch other people be scared of me instead of you being the one shivering? How about it?"  
  
Jonathan blinked, then seemed to stand straighter. His reply was to Willow, but he locked eyes with Buffy as he spoke: "I've screwed up a lot over the years-I've really hated my life at times, and I did a lot of stupid stuff to make it change, and one person's always been there to help me. I've told myself that I wasn't really hurting her, that she'd be fine no matter what I did, and that by keeping Warren from killing her, I was making what I did OK. I was wrong. I helped to cause this, even if I didn't mean to, and I'd give anything to undo what I've done in the last year." He looked down, then back at Buffy as he continued, "I know I can't do anything now to help-I'm the most useless person in this room, but I'm not going to save my skin by turning on Buffy again. You're right, I should have been dead long before now anyway, and if my luck's run out, better that it be doing something decent for a change."  
  
Buffy blinked, stunned, and was startled by the loud snicker from Willow. The Dalorian Necromancer smirked at Jonathan and commented, "I knew you were a soft touch, Jonathan. You never would have made a decent villain. Hope that's a comfort when one of the others is pulling you to pieces." Willow turned and spotted Anya watching her. The vengeance demon looked fascinated, and Willow's expression turned friendly and she began to walk towards Anya. Xander began to move to Anya's side, only to have Anya turn and shake her head at him. Xander froze and glared in frustration as Willow put her arm around Anya's shoulders and led her to the table that Jonathan had vacated, then motioned for Anya to sit down.  
  
Anya complied, then waited in silence, not reacting to Willow's scrutiny except to continue to watch her with that fascinated expression. After a moment, Willow brightened and commented, "So, you're a vengeance demon again! Good for you: you did that for a long time, and by reputation you're pretty damned good at it, even if you did botch your return assignment." She inclined her head at Xander, who bristled, then added, "But that kind of shows the problems with the job, doesn't it? You never know when some loser who's supplicated you for help is going to get you into some kind of jam that causes you to lose your powers or just make you look bad. Who needs it? I'll give you all the raw power you need to wreak all kinds of havoc without waiting for some pathetic mortal to summon you and wish for carnage. This ain't no lateral transfer, Anya: you'll be one of the true powers in this dimension. That fool D'Hoffryn can't touch what I can give you-and he can't save you from what will happen to you if you refuse me." Willow paused, frowned, then intoned formally: "What say you, Anyanka?"  
  
Anya watched as Willow's dark eyes fixed on her with unsettling intensity, then sighed and shook her head slightly before replying, "I must admit, it is tempting, the whole ultimate power thing. Looking back, it was always something you craved, even when you were being Little Miss Perfect-I should have known you'd end up like this. Tempting, but I've seen what happens when Dalorian Necromancers get their hooks into a region: people are way too hung up on trying to survive to worry about getting vengeance on anyone else, except the Necromancer herself, and no sensible vengeance demon is going to have anything to do with that. Not to mention, the people who live aren't really worth bossing around, and they'd make really lousy customers." Willow blinked, and Anya added, "Oh, and you're pushy, vindictive, and I really suspect you have communist tendencies, aside from the whole 'wanting to turn the world into a necromantic hell' thing. Don't think I want to work for you: a powerful slave is still a slave, thank you."  
  
Willow shook her head in disgust and replied, "It beats being the custodian in the salt mines, which is where I'm seeing you ending up about now." She waved her hand, causing a display of red energy, then added, "Don't bother trying to teleport out of here: you won't like the barrier spell I've set up." She smiled, then turned again until she spotted her next target and chuckled low in her throat as she called out, "Dawnie! Let's have some girl talk, shall we?"  
  
"Get away from her, Willow!" Buffy was outraged, and she threw herself at Willow with every ounce of speed and strength within her, only to be stopped cold by a flash of crimson light that dazed her. When her vision cleared, she found she was chained spread-eagled against one of the walls, with Willow watching her with open amusement. She rattled the chains impotently and snarled, "Damn you!"  
  
"Already taken care of-no need to worry about it, Buffy." The Dalorian Necromancer had regained her composure, and was visibly enjoying the sight of her former best friend's helplessness. She examined the Slayer with a critical eye, then added, "I don't want anything getting in the way of our little talk later. This is a good look for you. . .maybe we should talk about wardrobe changes later, though. I bet you'd look just adorable in a harem outfit." Buffy bristled, but Willow had already dismissed the Slayer from her concerns as she walked up to the trembling fifteen year old girl who had been watching the scene in horror. Willow slipped her arm around Dawn and led her to a bench, where they sat quietly for a few moments before Willow broke the silence: "You know, Dawnie, you're sitting on a big old pile of primal energy. I can't determine exactly how much, even with my new powers, but it's more than I could tap even by opening the Hellmouth. I'm going to get that power, and there's nothing you can do to stop me, but if you make it easier for me, I can make it worth your while."  
  
Dawn remained silent, and Willow took it as a invitation to elaborate: "There's power to burn, Dawnie. I can tap it, use a steady flow while leaving plenty for other purposes. You could stay human, and even gain a measure of power in your own right, become a powerful sorceress, probably the second most powerful being in this world. I could be what I've always tried to be to you: a teacher, a protector-all for cooperating and making my life a bit easier. The alternative, well, you were a ball of green energy for eons, and you go right back to being that. No more Dawn, just a big old battery sitting in the corner for eternity, or until I suck you dry." Buffy cried out, and Xander snarled, but Willow ignored both, staring sternly at Dawn as she absorbed the dire threat. She waited a few seconds, then visibly perked up and asked, "So, Dawnie, what sounds good to you?"  
  
Dawn blinked, then mumbled under her breath. Willow grinned and leaned in, asking, "What was that? I couldn't hear you."  
  
Dawn mumbled again, and Willow leaned in further, only to catch a glob of spittle directly in the eyes. She stumbled back, and was in a blind rage by the time she could see again. Her hand came up, and a bolt of pure black energy rocketed at Dawn, who sat there with a serene expression on her face that did not vanish until the bolt faded from sight millimeters from her heart. She blinked, and looked up to where Willow stood, still panting and glaring at the younger woman, her left hand frozen in a warding gesture. Dawn's face twisted in fury and she shouted, "NO!"  
  
"Yes, actually. I've got pretty good reflexes, don't I?" Willow looked at Dawn smugly, then walked in a circle around her, making a tsking motion with her finger as she added, "I have to admit, I'm impressed. You came within a split second of dying and depriving me of a remarkable source of power. Of course, that death bolt probably would have caused a release of energy that would have vaporized everything in a twenty mile radius, but still-well played. I should have remembered that you were ready to die last year to save the world, before Buffy got all insighty and took your place. Well, there ain't gonna be any heroic death for you, kitten, just a quiet corner of your very own for you to slowly drain away, for my glory. Life sucks sometimes, doesn't it?"   
  
"So why didn't you see that coming, oh great and powerful Necromancer?" Buffy, appalled as she was at what she was seeing, was still thinking desperately to find a way out of the crisis, and she had immediately noted an oddity with Dawn's near-suicide. "You were Mind-Reader Girl even before you sold your soul to darkness. . .why not now?"  
  
"It's the nature of her new powers." Anya spoke matter-of-factly, watching as Willow turned on her with a snarl on her face. The vengeance demon smiled coldly as she added, "Telepathy requires a living mind to work properly: a vampire can hear projected thoughts, but he can't read minds or have his mind read. The powers of the Necromancer are based in unlife: when Willow absorbed the Tomes, she forever destroyed her ability to read minds."  
  
Willow blinked, then scanned the room, meeting the eyes of all of its occupants and visibly straining to divine their thoughts. After a few moments, she stopped, then screamed in rage, causing the others to flinch. Willow bowed her head for a moment, then looked back up, composed once again. She shrugged and commented, "Life is full of little tradeoffs. . .would have been nice to know about this one, though. Those damned Tomes should have had a warning label on them. Oh well, water under the bridge-I've got stuff to do." She smiled again, then turned and concluded, "Which brings me to you, Xander."  
  
Xander tensed subliminally, then forced himself to turn and watch as the infinitely familiar yet alien figure walked up to him and ran a finger up his arm: her black aura caused his skin to crawl as if a thousand ants were busily walking along underneath. Willow ignored Xander's shudder and remarked, "You know, I had really moved on completely from our little fluke together: I wrote it all off to teen hormones and not knowing what I really wanted-which, as it turned out, was a blonde with a really great body." Xander's mouth tightened at the unwanted reminder of a dead friend, but Willow went on, oblivious: "But this whole thing has let me look at you from a whole different place, and I get it now: why Cordelia, and Anya, and random demon hotties, and even a damned alternate universe Tara just couldn't keep their hands off of you." She reached up and placed her hands on his temples and whispered, "You're just full of darkness, Xander: I can feel it whispering to me. That's why you left her at the altar, isn't it? Not because that demon showed you those fake visions, but because you knew that they just might not be fake."   
  
Xander remained silent, and Anya blinked and stared at him as Willow snickered and commented, "I'll take that as a yes." She leaned on him and continued, "That's what's made you such a fighter over the years: the darkness outside mirrored the darkness inside, and in fighting one you held down the other." Xander remained impassive, and Willow closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. Her form shimmered, and she stood there next to Xander, wearing a long green dress: her once-again red hair flowing down her shoulders. The black aura had vanished, and when Willow spoke again, her voice was soft and seductive: "You don't have to fight it any more, Xander. The others don't matter-we can be together, always, just like it was before we ever met Buffy. You don't have to be Buffy's lapdog any more: you can be my faithful guardian, and together we will rule this place, and far beyond."  
  
Willow stepped back, and watched as Xander looked at the astonishingly beautiful and seductive woman standing in front of him. Part of him wanted to believe that it was a trick, that the Necromancer was playing tricks with his senses to make herself seem more attractive than Willow had ever been, but deep down he knew better. Except for the still-black eyes, she looked as she had before things had gone bad, and he shook his head in disbelief that he had even seen her otherwise. He closed his eyes for a moment, and-in what he now knew to be the privacy of his own thoughts-said goodbye to his oldest and dearest friend. He took a breath, and asked quietly, "And if I refuse?"  
  
Willow blinked in mock surprise, then stroked her chin, as if contemplating the question. After a moment, she chuckled, then gestured casually. She returned to her darker motif, then replied, "In that case, things will not go well for you, not at all. Remember what happened to Jesse?" Xander turned pale, and Willow nodded and continued, "Yes, you would, having killed him and all. Of course, you finished him off before he managed to do any real harm. . .it is probably would be a comfort to him if he knew. On the other hand, I can snap my fingers and five vampires will come wandering through the front door in ten minutes, ready to do whatever I want them to, like making a snack out of you and turning you into a vampire as a bonus. Getting the idea yet?"  
  
Xander shrugged, then replied, "So? You'd have a demon with my face and an unsettling preference for leather clothing: not my problem."  
  
Willow laughed out loud and commented, "Oh, we've become so sophisticated in our old age, haven't we. Funny how you were never willing to cut Angel that sort of philosophical slack. But, yeah, it wouldn't be you, and if I starved that vampire for a couple of weeks and threw him into a sealed hospital nursery, well, that wouldn't be your problem either, I suppose. Demon's gotta eat, and you won't be around to worry about it. " Xander forced down a quiver of revulsion and forced his expression to remain blank as Willow leaned in close again and concluded in a stage whisper, "Of course, there is that little curse that Jenny Calendar translated and left behind. I could cast it in the blink of an eye, and leave you with an unfortunate problem. Guilt really eats at you, given time. Angel spent decades scrounging for food in alleys. . .maybe you should work on your shabby and pathetic look. Or I might just chain you to a wall like Buffy here and starve you until you eat whatever is put in front of you. I bet I could find a new way for you to feel guilty every single time, Xander. The innocent, the helpless, the holy, the depraved: these will be your dinner repast from now on, my old friend, if you don't give in."  
  
Xander looked down, closing his eyes again, and his lips seemed to move slowly in the silence. Willow waited quietly until Xander looked up, and the paleness of his features made his eyes look almost as dark as hers as he watched her: his expression was unreadable. Abruptly, he chuckled, and he turned his head and gave Buffy an apologetic look before turning back to Willow and observing in a darkly humorous tone: "On the bright side, it might make Buffy look at me in a whole new way."  
  
Willow's expression darkened-literally-and she turned her back on Xander and ignored him as she slowly walked over to Buffy, studying her as she continued to test the strength of the chains. The Necromancer shook her head and commented, "That's our Buffy-she never gives up. Except when she does, of course, but she's always gotten over it." Buffy ceased to strain against the chains and looked without hesitation into Willow's inky stare. Willow was unmoved, and continued, "Not really much point in threatening to kill you, is there? You've wanted to die ever since I brought you back, you ungrateful bitch. I'll make you an offer, Buffy. Serve me for one year, and I'll let you die in peace. No more fighting, no more struggling, just the sweet embrace of the grave that you seem to think was so damned wonderful." She stepped forward, and there was cold menace in her voice as she continued, "If you refuse me, I will chain you to the highest tower in Sunnydale and put a spell on you so that you will never die, or sleep, or know a moment's peace as long as I rule here. You will see, and hear, and feel every atrocity I am responsible for in this place you spent so long protecting-forever, knowing that I will never release you."  
  
Willow paused, then waited for Buffy to react to the threat. The Slayer blinked, then narrowed her eyes at the Necromancer and replied, "Never is a long time, Willow, and if I ever get free, one of us is going to die. Oh, and way to lift a lingering torture from Tolkien, Willow. There wasn't a section in those Tomes about original concepts, was there?"  
  
Willow took a step back, and her expression was irritated. After a moment, she shrugged and walked back to the center of the room, looking at the five people who had all stared at ugly fates and not flinched. She sighed and commented, "I should have known. It's way too tempting to play the noble hero, even when things really are hopeless. Oh, well. . .I can throw you all into deep, dark dungeons to keep you out of the way while I take over here: maybe a few months of staring into the abyss will soften you up a bit." She paused, smiled and added, "Of course, there are some who might be more receptive to my offers." The other occupants of the room tensed as Willow turned to the south and concentrated briefly before commenting, "No. . .that group is entangled in their own unpleasantness: I'll let them settle things out before I pay a call there. Although it might be fun to pay Faith a visit soon." She looked around the room and remarked, "Not to mention, there's a member of our little group missing, isn't there? How did I forget about him?" Buffy and Xander exchanged alarmed expressions as Willow closed her eyes and concentrated. A small area of inky blackness appeared on the floor about ten feet from Willow, glowed, then vanished, leaving a humanoid male stripped to the waist, burns visible on several spots on his body. Willow chuckled and called out, "Hello, Spike. Been up to anything interesting lately?"  
  
Spike tensed, then stood and turned around, already complaining as he did so: "Now see here, Re--!" He stopped in mid-sentence as he took in Willow's new appearance, and amended his comments: "-Willow. New look for you-reminds me of a lady I ran into last year who grabbed me by the throat. Mind telling me why I'm here?"  
  
Willow smiled seductively and walked over to Spike, squeezing his arm and looking at the burns and bruises on his body. She shook her head in mock dismay and waved a hand, causing black energy to flicker across the wounds for several seconds. When the flickers faded, the injuries were gone. The Necromancer laughed and commented, "That's better: can't have you looking all beaten up. The others might think you were doing Buffy again." Spike's eyes narrowed, and he visibly examined Willow, noting the changes in appearance and behavior; after a moment, he shook his head. Willow noted the reaction and asked, "Something on your mind, Spike?"  
  
Spike looked at Willow for a moment, then shook his head and replied, "I saw this coming for months now. Play with the forces of darkness long enough, and they suck you in, and the only question is what's left afterwards." He turned and noted the presence of the others, and he paused when he spotted Xander and added simply, "I warned you." Xander nodded slowly, and did not dispute Spike's words. The vampire shook his head again and turned back to Willow before asking, "So you've become the new Big Bad and you're about to murder all of your friends. How neat for you. Why am I here?"  
  
Willow laughed again, then replied, "I offered them all the chance to work for me, and they refused me, which means they all get to suffer horribly, then die-if they're lucky. I was a bit miffed, then I remembered you, Spike. You made me an offer once to change my way of thinking, and I turned you down. I thought the least I could do was to return the favor. I know your history: you're a formidable ally, or at least you will be once you discard this momentary flirtation with moral ambiguity. I want you as my enforcer, the face of my authority in this place. When they see your face, they will think of me and tremble."  
  
Spike considered Willow's words, then snickered and replied, "Oh, right. That's the effect I've striven for the last hundred years-to have my face make people think of why they're scared senseless of someone else. What's in it for me, Willow? And don't bother threatening to kill me-we both know that I'm not adverse to ending it all if things get too unpleasant."  
  
Willow's expression turned innocent, and she replied, "Threaten to kill you? Why would I want to do that, Spike? There are so much more useful ways to get you to do what I want. Like this." She stared at the vampire and concentrated for a moment, extending her right hand outward, palm upward. After a moment, there was a shimmer of red light and a flat, rectangular object made of metal and plastic appeared in the open palm. Spike stared, comprehending and yet not wanting to believe. Willow nodded and commented, "Amazing how this little thing caused you so much trouble, isn't it?" She closed her hand on it, and after a moment dust and metal fragments fell to the floor.  
  
Spike's eyes narrowed, and he quickly walked over to Jonathan and smacked him on the back of the head, causing the ex-Geek Trio member to cry out in pain and glare at the vampire. Spike waited until it was obvious that he was feeling no pain, then walked back over to Willow and remarked, "Well, that's a relief. Doesn't particularly make me want to be your lackey, though. Now that you've destroyed that annoying little piece of technology, I repeat: what's in it for me?"  
  
Willow snickered, then replied, "I thought I'd give you a little taste of freedom before breaking the bad news to you, Spike." She waved her hand, and Spike's body shimmered briefly before returning to normal. The Necromancer smiled, then invited, "Go on, Spike: smack the little twerp again-he deserves it."  
  
Spike looked at Willow suspiciously, then shrugged and walked back over to Jonathan. He was drawing his hand back when he dropped to the ground, howling in pain. Jonathan settled for a briefly smug expression before turning away and trying once again to be invisible. Spike recovered a few seconds later and got to his feet unsteadily. He strode back over to Willow and snapped, "What the bloody hell did you do to me, witch?"  
  
"Oh, that? I just cast a spell on you that duplicated the effect of the chip, only at three times the force. Hurts, doesn't it?" Spike's expression turned appalled as Willow circled him, shaking her head sadly as she elaborated, "You see, Spike, I can do all kinds of nasty things to the other people in this room, but I might as well be God to you. I can cast a spell in a blink of an eye that will make the touch of air as painful to you as anything the chip ever did to you. I can make it so drinking blood feels like drinking battery acid. Oh, and I can give you your soul back, but I could do that before, so I'll probably pass on that, since some people here apparently think I lack originality in my torments." Willow saw a flicker of unreadable emotion flash across Spike's face, and wondered about it momentarily before dismissing it from her mind and changing tack: "As for what I can give you. . .I believe this packaging is acceptable?" She pointed at Buffy, and the Slayer's eyes widened in horror as she saw Spike looking at her with a neutral expression. The vampire looked at Buffy silently for several seconds, then turned back to Willow with a raised eyebrow. Willow nodded and elaborated, "I'll give her to you, Spike, with a spell or two to keep her nice and docile. You can turn her or not, I don't care. Swear to serve me, and Buffy is yours, lock, stock and barrel."  
  
Buffy was silent, but sweat began to trickle down her brow as she watched Spike consider the offer. He turned back to Buffy, and the look he gave her was as wicked as anything she had ever seen from him. She closed her eyes and felt a small part of her begin to die. A masculine snicker aroused her from her moment of despair, and she opened her eyes and watched in astonishment as Spike began laughing loudly, his expression openly contemptuous. Willow glared at him and asked, "What's so funny?"  
  
Spike took a moment to regain his composure, then locked eyes with the angry Necromancer and replied, "You silly bint, if I'd wanted her that way, I could have had her six months ago, fangs and all. She's been asleep in my presence, alone and helpless, and the chip didn't work against her. If I had wanted her docile, I would have run off with the damned BuffyBot last summer." He looked over at Buffy, and an apologetic expression crossed his face briefly before he continued, "I fell in love with Buffy-the whole package, not just the face or the moves. The fact that I haven't really gotten the hang of showing it to her properly doesn't change that." He turned back to Willow and concluded, "There was a time when you would have understood that better than I do. Speaking of which, what does your ex think of the new you?"  
  
Willow laughed bitterly and responded, "She's dead: Warren shot her and Buffy, I killed Warren, and Buffy and the others tried to protect the Geeks from me. Bad move: I found these books Tara had been hiding and-"  
  
"Wackiness ensued. Yeah, I get it." Spike sounded weary, and he watched the Necromancer for a moment before sighing and adding, "In case you don't get the picture, I'm not going to play this game, Willow. I won't be anyone's lackey ever again, and if I wanted to see a world reduced to mindless servitude to some evil hellbitch, I would have let Angelus open Acathla four years ago. I can't stop you, but I won't help you." Spike paused, forced a grin, and concluded, "So piss off, Red. The evil vampire won't be your way to save face today."  
  
Willow's aura expanded and grew even darker, and she intoned, "So be it." She paused, then continued, "I guess I'll just have to do it myself, then. After I take care of one more thing." She whirled and pointed at the front door, which was opening. A bolt of power leaped from her fingers and struck the man entering flush in the chest, causing him to gasp and stumble forward before crumpling into a heap. Willow grinned and walked over to the man, dragging him forward to an open area of floor. Dawn recognized the helpless figure first and gasped, "Giles!"  
  
"Yeah, looks like the parental unit came back to town to see what we've been up to. Bet he's pretty ticked off right now." Willow's tone was scornful, and Giles reacted, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to regain consciousness. The Necromancer ignored him as she continued: "He's stuffed full of energy to the eyeballs-I sensed a magical power surge to the east not long ago, and that must have been it. Some coven back in the Mother Country probably decided that they needed to send someone to deal with little old me, and gave him a nice little supercharge before sending him along. Pity they didn't know I had access to the Tomes, or they might have tried something a little less dangerous to them, since I'm going to suck every last bit of power from him and use it to kill them. After I deal with you, of course."  
  
Willow sensed motion from around her, and snorted in contempt as she gestured once: a wave of force issued from her that tossed everyone not already against a wall back into one, stunning them. Willow shook her head, then started reaching for Giles' heart, her hand crackling with crimson fire.  
  
A loud, inhuman cry came from the open doorway. It sounded vaguely familiar to Willow, but she could not place it as she looked up to see a figure cloaked in blue-green fire and raising a hand in her direction. A massive burst of energy leaped forward and slammed into Willow's chest, blasting her back fifty feet through the wall into Buffy's training room. Her protective aura absorbed most of the force, but she was still dazed momentarily as she regained her feet and walked back through the opening, muttering, "All right, someone apparently hasn't got the memo yet. I'm the heavy in this part of -" She stopped dead in her tracks, and-for the first time since being changed into a force of pure evil-was paralyzed by genuine shock.  
  
Tara McLay, the Nemesis, stood in the entry hall of the Magic Box, wearing her battle gear and a crackling aura of azure flame. There was no trace of love or joy at reunion on her face, only betrayal and pure rage. The others watched in shock equal to Willow's, and for a timeless moment the only sound was of the power emanating from the bodies of the Nemesis and the Necromancer.  
  
  
. . .to be continued  
  
  
  
As before, comments are welcome and desired. 


	3. Part III

Summary: Willow, seeking power, comes upon a truly dark tome, and makes a fateful choice. Follow-up to "Dark Bargain."  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters portrayed here, they remain the property of their respective owners/creators.  
  
Rating: PG-13, for themes.  
  
Time Frame: During "Two to Go," with changes in the timeline to reflect my earlier story "Dark Bargain." (spoilers)  
  
Archiving: Be my guest, but e-mail me ( eilandesq@charter.net ) to let me know. . .I like to know where stuff I write ends up and I might want to see what else you've got.  
  
Author's Note: Anyone who is used to more mellow stories from me is forewarned: this one is dark. Really, really dark. Don't say I didn't warn you. : - )  
  
  
  
  
BETRAYAL  
  
  
Part III  
  
  
The silence was broken by the sound of choked sobs, and Willow seemed to come out of a daze as she glanced derisively at Dawn, who was the one sobbing, then turned to the avenging figure in the entryway. She smiled demurely and called out in a mocking tone, "You know, I'm pretty sure you're dead. I seem to recall getting all weepy about it, then skinning a geek. I don't suppose you'd like to explain how you're standing here alive and looking really pissed off?"  
  
The azure fire continued to crackle around Tara, but her harsh whisper carried across the room: "You did it, Willow: You brought me back."  
  
Willow shook her head and replied, "Pretty sure I didn't do that, baby. I had a rather nasty fight with a demon over the subject. He said that you were dead, and that it had been a natural death, so I couldn't bring you back. Mayhem followed."   
  
Tara shook her head and gestured at her former lover, snapping, "You've unleashed monstrous evil here, Willow. . .evil beyond your comprehension, and with consequences that you couldn't possibly anticipate-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. If I wanted a lecture I'd have let the Watcher stay conscious." Willow's voice dripped with contempt, and Tara's mouth tightened subliminally as the Dalorian Necromancer looked at her with narrowed eyes and accused, "This is a trick: Anya or Giles is projecting an image and channeling power through it. I'll put a stop to that right now." She whirled and threw an inky, writhing ball of black energy at Anya: Xander tensed, but paused as he saw there was no way to reach her in time to intercept the attack. Anya closed her eyes and braced against the attack, but it washed harmlessly against a barrier of blue fire. Willow turned and saw that Tara's hands were held in a warding gesture: her mystic senses told her that the spell had come from Tara, not from elsewhere. She blinked, and the other occupants of the room were forgotten as she stepped towards the resurrected Nemesis and asked in a voice that was almost that of the old Willow: "How?"  
  
Tara sighed, then responded, "The powers of the Dalorian Necromancer and the Nemesis are inextricably linked. Where the possibility of one exists, so must the possibility of the other. When I died without training a successor, the potentiality of the Nemesis rested wholly in the tomes you burned. Their destruction triggered a backlash, which resurrected me, with the knowledge of what you had done and the entire complement of spells and powers that the Tomes had to offer, including ones that I had yet to master." Tara smiled, and there was an unfamiliar edge of mockery, tinged with bitterness, in her voice as she concluded, "Not too bright, honey."  
  
Willow ignored the mockery: she was still trying to absorb what she had just heard, and her voice was distorted by sheer disbelief as she asked, "So, if I'd just burned those damned books before I absorbed the Tomes of the Necromancer--?"  
  
"I would have come back, confused but none the worse for the experience." Tara sounded subdued, and the edge of hardness had vanished from her voice. She shook her head and commented, "That would have been a nice bit of information to have: a shame that I wasn't aware of it."  
  
Willow bent over, her hands on her knees, visibly shaking. The others tensed, daring to hope that Tara might have reached Willow even in her current horribly debased state. That hope vanished as Willow straightened and revealed that she was laughing like a madwoman: her eyes shone with demonic glee as her laughter echoed through the room. After a few moments, she recovered and looked back at Tara, who looked shaken for the first time since she entered the Magic Box. The Dalorian Necromancer looked at her foe, grinned, and commented, "Isn't it amazing how stupid little things like that are always happening here: I had this great plan, and it's all screwed up because of something that neither of us knew. This world is too messy, too random: I will transform it and make it a place of order and reason." Willow chuckled and added, "Of course, to do that I have to kill you. Try not to take it personally. What happens when you die, anyway? Do the books come back?" Tara nodded involuntarily, and Willow nodded in response and continued, "I'll put them in a crystal case in my throne room: it's the least I can do to commemorate what we had together, darling. Any last words?"  
  
Tara locked eyes with Willow, not betraying by expression or word the motion in the room behind them as Anya reached into a drawer and pulled out several small objects, handing some to Xander, Jonathan and Dawn, then slipping silently over to Buffy. The Nemesis frowned, then coaxed, "Willow, let's go somewhere isolated and fight this out. I'll give you an even fight, if you don't hurt anyone else here."  
  
Willow snickered, then retorted, "Oh, please. Do you really think I view any of these insects as a threat to me now? I'm not going to give up the advantage that you having to protect them is going to give me, and I'm certainly not going to wander off and let them find some new source of power to make my life unpleasant: with Giles back they might actually be halfway competent at research now." Willow shook her head in mock sadness and concluded, "You're just going to have to make the best of it, baby."  
  
Tara nodded and replied, "I know." Her hands moved in a blur, and a bolt of blue fire leapt in Willow's direction. Willow ducked and rolled, but the bolt crossed two feet to the right of where Willow had been standing, heading directly at Buffy, who was still trapped by the chains. Willow's eyes widened as the bolt abruptly split in mid-air, creating four smaller bolts that struck the shackles, vaporizing them and causing the Slayer to fall free. Willow snarled and fired a crimson power bolt at Buffy, who dove for cover as the bolt blew a five foot wide hole in the wall where she had so recently been hanging. Willow turned back to Tara, who smiled coldly and commented, "It's not all about you, Willow."  
  
Willow stood and glared at the Nemesis, and her voice was distorted with barely contained rage as she responded, "I beg to differ." Her aura darkened, and her eyes flickered with ruby flame as she looked over her shoulder and commanded, "Andrew, kill Giles."  
  
The others flinched, having forgotten the animated remains. The monster's eyes glowed brightly, and it advanced rapidly, its curved blade raised to slay the still-recovering Watcher. Tara gasped and started to weave a spell, but Willow turned back and fired a huge gout of crimson flame at the Nemesis, and Tara was hard-pressed to hold off the attack. The others would be on their own, at least for now.  
  
The scimitar came down with a hiss, but was deflected at the last second by a kick almost too fast to be seen by the human eye. The blade missed Giles and buried itself deeply in the floor, causing the skeleton to grasp the hilt with both hands and try to free it. Buffy stepped closer and began throwing punches at the monster's ribs and spine, hoping to shatter it. Much to her dismay, she found that the undead mockery was far more resistant to damage than what she was used to, and the speed with which the skeleton pulled the blade free and turned to face her gave her the uneasy feeling that Andrew was going to be a hell of a lot more annoying dead than alive. Buffy reached behind her and caught the broadsword that Xander had retrieved from a wall rack, and the sound of ringing blades was soon competing with that of dueling energies.  
  
Willow noted the sequence of events, then called out, "Nicely done, Buffy. . .but the rest of you look bored. How about I get you someone to play with?" She muttered a short phrase, and before long the sound of pounding on the back door was heard. The identity of the new arrivals was made clear when five vampires came charging through the front door. They passed by Tara, and a quick gesture caused her aura to flare blue-white, igniting the hapless vampires and reducing them to ash. Willow sighed and muttered, "Dumbasses" before weaving another spell and resuming the attack on Tara.  
  
Buffy ducked under a vicious swipe from the skeleton's blade, and noticed that she felt sluggish as she fended off the attacks from Willow's undead servant. Giles was sitting up, and he had taken in the scene and was gesturing quickly with his hands and muttering a spell. Buffy wondered what Giles was doing, but had no time to waste in order to find out. She called out, "Everyone arm yourselves and get ready for a whole lot of pissed off vampires!"  
  
Xander, Dawn and Jonathan nodded and grabbed weapons, while Anya shimmered and vanished. Buffy wondered for a moment if she had chosen to attempt flight, then spotted her behind the front counter, pulling out stakes and bottles of holy water. In spite of herself, Buffy grinned: it was back to basics, in a truly twisted manner.   
  
Spike had risen and was moving quickly, snatching a mace off the wall and dashing over to Buffy. The Slayer tensed for a moment, then realized that Spike was moving to blindside the skeleton. She stepped up her attack, and kept her expression neutral as Spike reached the pair and directed a two-handed swing at the pelvis of the monster. At the last second, it turned, but the mace slammed home with a loud crack, staggering it and causing it to have to re-grip its weapon. Spike pressed his attack, and several ribs shattered under the assault; unfortunately, the skeleton seemed undismayed by the loss, and stepped up its attack. Spike hissed in pain as the scimitar bit into his bare chest, causing a shallow but lengthy cut that bled slowly.   
  
Buffy shook her head: enough was enough. She dropped to the floor and performed a sweep against the skeleton, counting on Spike to keep it occupied while she was helpless to defend herself. The vampire noted her move and stepped up his attack, receiving another slash for his trouble just as Buffy knocked the skeleton's legs from under it, knocking it to the ground. Buffy rolled to her feet and delivered a two handed stroke at the monster's right wrist, severing it and sending the scimitar clattering to the ground. It reached for the blade with its left hand, but it was too late: Buffy kicked the scimitar away, then joined Spike in battering Andrew's remains into shards of blackened bone. The skull was the last part to succumb: the eye sockets glimmered for a last time, then faded to darkness. Buffy paused to catch her breath, then turned to Spike and managed a rueful grin before whispering, "Thanks: he was putting up a pretty good fight for a bunch of geek bones."  
  
Spike nodded and replied, "All part of the service." He frowned and commented, "You were looking less than your best there: are you all right?"  
  
Buffy shook her head, then responded, "Something's off, and I think Willow is doing it." She glanced over at Giles, who was still absorbed with his casting, then turned back to Spike, ordering, "Guard him. Kill anything that gets near him." She smiled briefly, all grievances set aside for the moment, then turned to join the battle against the small horde of vampires that had burst through the back door.  
  
* * * * *   
  
* Goddess, she's strong *   
  
Tara shook her head to dismiss the traitorous thought as she parried a burst of purple electricity, causing the spell to strike a candle and reduce it to wax pulp. She had not hesitated for a moment to use her deadliest attacks against Willow: she knew all too well the nature of the change that had taken place in her lover, and that an instant's mercy could spell her doom in a fraction of a second, along with that of the entire world. The first potentially lethal attack had taken every ounce of will she had to deliver, but now she was throwing spells that would have left the Willow she had known only days before a pile of dying flesh, with hardly a thought. Her own power had reached its zenith: the reaction caused by the burning of the Tomes of the Nemesis had burned into her mind the knowledge and ability to use spells that would have taken her decades of study, arcane power that was originally intended to deal with situations where the Nemesis and the Necromancer were fighting a long war of attrition over the expanse of an entire world. Tara knew that dealing with her alternate self would have been child's play at this level of power, as would have been disposing of the Necromancer who slew her mother while dying at her hands.   
  
That being said, she was losing.  
  
Tara had sensed the power lurking inside of Willow from the first time she had seen her, and had watched with ambivalence as Willow had learned to command that power with both grim determination and astonishing ease. Ultimately, it had been the abuse of that power which had sundered their relationship, and her genuine pride in how Willow had managed to give it up in the face of repeated temptation that had permitted her to set aside her doubts and come back to her. . .until Warren's bullet ended everything and started the sequence of events that had led Willow to the Tomes of the Dalorian Necromancer. Along with the power of the Nemesis came the knowledge of their history and that of the Necromancers: Tara knew that no user of the Arts as powerful as Willow had ever become the Necromancer; previously, the cost that was inevitably paid by the would-be adept had seemed too high to one who already commanded great power. Willow's lust for vengeance, along with her already corrupting absorption of dark power and her ability to absorb the Tomes instantaneously, had combined to create a threat that would have awed even the dark power that sacrificed its existence to create the Tomes. Though she had succeeded so far in warding off Willow's assaults, Tara could tell that Willow was still holding back, probing her for weaknesses, while she was pressing to her limits already.   
  
The Nemesis looked over at her opponent, and saw veiled amusement in Willow's eyes. Her heart sank, and an intense desire to give up filled her: she was supposed to be dead already-why not just let it happen? She blinked, and saw that the battle in the back of the store had begun, with her friends grimly holding their own against a group of unusually energetic vampires. Buffy was in the front, holding off three of the undead warriors while shouting commands to the others. Tara's jaw set: Buffy had felt anguish at being brought back, yet she fought on, for duty-and for love. She shook her head to clear it, then redoubled her assault on the Necromancer, ignoring her growing exhaustion as she tapped her inner reserves.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Buffy's head snapped back, and she felt the taste of blood in her mouth. The vampire grinned and looked for another opening for a kick, while Buffy shook her head to clear it, then threw a right cross that snapped the vampire's head back in kind.  
  
There were six vampires, and Buffy was straining to hold off three of them, succeeding partially because they seemed disinclined to grapple her rather than strike, perhaps having heard of her rather lethal abilities in close combat. Xander and Jonathan were each holding off a vampire, and both men were quickly being worn down: Buffy could see parallel lines of crimson on Jonathan's face as he fought on, jabbing and slicing with surprising skill. Dawn and Anya were holding off the other vampire with a variation of distractions, including holy water and random teleports, and neither had been hurt-yet.  
  
Buffy risked a brief glance over her shoulder and saw that Giles was still muttering and gesturing, and that Spike was looking at her, obviously wanting to assist with the pitched battle. She gave her head a brief shake, and turned back to her opponents, wondering if Giles was ever going to get on the ball and-  
  
Abruptly, Buffy felt a burst of energy, and saw the three vampires in front of her flinch as if jabbed by a cattle prod. She took full advantage of their hesitation, staking two with blinding speed and sending the third to the floor with a side kick. She heard a scream and realized that Xander had dispatched his opponent as well. Another glance over her shoulder revealed that Spike looked rather unsettled, and that Giles was still weaving his spell. Willow was also in the Slayer's line of sight, and she glared at the Watcher for a moment before ducking under a blue-white blast of power that blew a hole through the wall behind her and tossed a bolt of crimson fire back at Tara. Buffy noted that there were several such holes visible, and that the building was starting to look none too stable. Giles had boosted their chances by counteracting the anti-life aura that Willow was projecting, but it would be up to them to dispatch their opponents and help Tara.  
  
Buffy heard a noise from the back room, and turned to see several more vampires coming in. She sighed: this was still not going to be a cakewalk. She staked the vampire on the floor in front of her, then moved to intercept the newcomers.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Willow was becoming bored.  
  
She had felt Giles cast the spell that suppressed her anti-life aura, but it had done nothing but neutralize a passive effect that had absolutely no influence on her other powers, which she had been using to inexorably wear Tara down. The Nemesis still wore a determined expression, but Willow could see the growing exhaustion in her motions: she was minutes from collapse. Confident in her inevitable victory, she decided to amuse herself by threatening Tara's friends and forcing her to exhaust herself further to defend them. Humming a cheerful tune, she starting randomly flinging energy bolts into the battle across the room. They had far less power than the ones she had been throwing at Tara, but they would still be very dangerous to an unprotected human.   
  
Tara gasped, and closed her eyes, trying to anticipate Willow's attacks by the subtle changes in the flow of energy within the room. She was remarkably successful, blocking about two thirds of the attacks with energy bolts of her own that caused the dark magic to fizzle out in mid-air. Most of the others struck walls and bookcases, doing more damage and causing the building to shake ominously. Two struck vampires squarely and ignited them, reducing them to dust. One struck Jonathan in the left arm, burning it slightly and causing the young man to yelp, but otherwise doing nothing. Willow scowled, then remembered noticing that Anya had been moving around just before the fight began. * The bitch remembered where the talismans were stored and handed them around. Clever * Willow pondered the situation, and was mildly surprised when a bookcase collapsed, burying Dawn in a pile of heavy books and mangled shelves. The teenager stirred, then went limp. The vampire who had been harrying her grinned and moved in for the kill, only to howl as a bolt of crimson fire from the Necromancer struck him in the chest, vaporizing him. Willow raised a finger in a mock scolding motion, and the other vampires noted the obvious warning and turned their attention to the other fighters. Willow smiled coldly. * That's my meal, thank you very much *  
  
Buffy saw Dawn go down, but was fully preoccupied with her opponents, and she felt a moment of perverse relief when Willow blasted the vampire going after her, even though she knew that Willow had only done it to preserve the source of power that the Key represented. She stepped up her own pace, kicking and punching with reckless disregard for her own safety. Buffy could see that Tara was slowing down: they didn't have much time left.  
  
Spike cried out, and Buffy turned to see the vampire on the ground, writhing in what was obviously horrible pain. Willow grinned again, and called out, "He really should have taken my offer, Buffy: I've always wondered what the undead have that gets your motor running. Oh well, eggs, omelets, yada yada yada." She pointed to the ceiling above Giles, and a blue-white bolt of power leaped out into a ceiling beam, blasting through Tara's feeble effort to deflect it. The beam came crashing down in a shower of debris as Buffy dashed forward, leaving Xander, Anya, and Jonathan to deal with the vampires in the back. A smaller piece of debris struck Giles in the forehead, stunning him and almost causing him to stop muttering the spell; after a moment, he recovered somewhat, but he was visibly hurt, weakening and unable to move aside from the remaining threat. Buffy had caught the heavy beam and was straining to keep it from falling on Giles and crushing him. She struggled to get herself in position to toss the beam aside and return to the fight, only to hear motion behind her and turned to see a vampire with a cavalry saber bearing down on her. She was helpless to defend herself while she was encumbered by the beam: dropping it to fight would kill Giles. She gritted her teeth and tried desperately to shift enough to throw the beam aside. She saw the glee in the vampire's eyes and realized that she was going to fail: she was fatalistically wondering if she could keep the beam from falling on Giles after she was stabbed when a sudden motion caused her to gasp in surprise.  
  
Jonathan had charged over and threw himself at the vampire, knocking it to the ground with a flying tackle. The vampire quickly recovered as Buffy, seeing the new threat, grimly continued to shift her weight and praying that she could be freed in time to save her rescuer. With a last twist, Buffy shoved the beam aside and sent it crashing to the ground inches from Giles. The Slayer turned and cried out in horror as the vampire thrust with its saber, impaling Jonathan in the middle of his torso as he lay helpless on the floor. The vampire grinned as it pulled the blade free, only to have the expression frozen on his face in the instant before he vanished into dust. Buffy dropped the stake and knelt next to Jonathan, noting with alarm that he was getting very pale and that the wet stain on his shirt was spreading rapidly. The Slayer was familiar with anatomy from both school and professional studies: Jonathan's aorta had been punctured. There was nothing she could do for him.  
  
Jonathan opened his eyes, and read the verdict on Buffy's face. Their eyes locked, and they both remembered their interactions of the past half decade, with all of the moments of grief, fear, anger, joy, and absurdity that had accompanied them. After a moment, Jonathan's eyes narrowed and he whispered, "Thank you, Buffy."  
  
Buffy was startled, and she asked quietly-ignoring for a brief moment the chaotic scene around her: "For what?"  
  
The young man smiled weakly, and reached out to touch her hand, replying with a rapidly fading voice: "For making it matter."  
  
Buffy blinked, and a tear fell free as she leaned over and kissed Jonathan gently on the forehead. When she straightened, she saw that Jonathan's eyes were fixed and staring. She reached out and closed them, then snarled low in her throat and looked up to where Xander and Anya were grimly holding off three vampires. With a blur of motion, she snatched up three loose stakes and tossed them one after another into the fight. All three found their marks, and the trio of screams left the former couple bruised but alive. Buffy exhaled, then heard the familiar, mocking voice behind her: "Awww, the little geek didn't make it. You really do fight better when you're pissed off, don't you?"  
  
Buffy stood up and focused every bit of her rage into a glare that she directed at the creature who-until mere minutes ago-had been a friend she would have unhesitatingly laid her life down for. Willow raised an amused eyebrow, and Buffy grated out: "Enough, Willow. This ends now."  
  
Willow chuckled, and noted that Tara was barely on her feet, and that Dawn had managed to struggle free from the pile of books before falling unconscious, blood oozing from a cut on her cheek. The Dalorian Necromancer nodded solemnly and replied, "Yeah, this whole scene has kind of played itself out." Willow raised a hand and waved, calling out, "Bye, Buffy," as her eyes glowed red and a wave of black energy flowed out from her, enveloping the entire room.  
Buffy started forward, only to find the strength being sucked from her body as if a vampire was draining her dry. She heard a groan, and saw Giles slump, unconscious. A quick glance to the rear of the store revealed that Xander and Anya were also staggering from the dark magic. The Slayer realized in horror that Willow was amplifying the anti-life energy field that she projected naturally with the full measure of power granted to her, and that Tara was too spent to counteract the effect. Buffy saw the amulet that Anya had handed her glowing in reaction to Willow's action, but it was inadequate against the raw power being used. Buffy growled and took another step toward Willow, only to drop to her knees, narrowly avoiding falling flat on her face.  
  
Willow smiled coldly, then whirled and knocked aside the deadly thrust of Tara's enchanted dagger: the Nemesis had come up behind her foe, only to be betrayed by the slight scraping sound of her shoe on some debris on the floor. The Necromancer chuckled, then snapped her fingers, summoning a blade of black iron that glowed orange with heat. She nodded to Tara, then invited: "You heard Buffy: let's finish this."  
  
Tara was too tired to manage more than a nod before Willow slashed at her, ripping a sleeve and drawing blood. The searing pain gave her a final burst of adrenaline, and she countered, pressing the Necromancer back and forcing her on the defensive. The Blade of the Nemesis contained powerful enchantments designed specifically to be lethal to the Necromancer, but it would require a major body hit to do the job: nicks would only make Willow angry. She risked a look behind Willow into the rest of the Magic Box: Buffy was still on her knees, barely conscious, and Giles and Xander were unconscious. Anya had managed to throw up some kind of defensive magic, but it too was proving inadequate: the vengeance demon was barely managing to stay on her feet. Tara was alone, with only her blade between herself and total defeat. She gritted her teeth and pressed the attack.  
  
In contrast to the pitched battle that had just concluded, the fight between the two epic combatants took place in eerie silence, with only the sound of the blades clashing or biting into flesh and fabric breaking the stillness. The flickering black field still filled the room, and after a few seconds the only other conscious being in the room was Spike, who was in the ironic position of being by far the physically strongest being in the room thanks to the anti-life field, but being helpless due to the intense pain caused by Willow's earlier spell. The vampire writhed and snarled in agony and sheer frustration as he struggled to watch the battle that would determine his final fate.   
  
Both women were bleeding from arm wounds, but Willow still moved freely, while Tara's movements were halting and visibly pained. Willow's expression was a cruel smile: Tara's was a grimace. Several more minutes passed, with more wounds being delivered, and a painful scratch on the shoulder caused Willow to frown and sigh before making a blindingly fast thrust and parry, catching Tara's arm in mid-thrust and sending the Blade of the Nemesis flying off into the main part of the Magic Box, bouncing out of view. Willow chuckled, then thrust again. The glowing blade buried itself in the lower right part of Tara's abdomen, causing a loud sizzling sound and a cry of anguish from Tara. Willow smirked, pulled the blade free, and kicked Tara in the chest, causing her to hurtle back into a wall and spin to the ground, barely conscious. Willow glanced back briefly to make sure everyone was still out, directed more power to the anti-life aura, then walked forward, kneeling next to the stricken Nemesis. Her smile was almost gentle as she whispered, "Hey, baby. Kind of painful, huh?"  
  
Tara had no strength to respond, and Willow nodded and continued, "You know. . .it's supposed to be impossible to corrupt the Nemesis with the powers of the Necromancer, and I figured that I didn't have time to play around. . .but it's just occurred to me: I can bring you back any time I want to just by burning that stupid book. I can try all kinds of spells on you until I find one that works, and we can be together always, with you seeing things my way. Isn't that just the best thing in the whole world? I've got a few details to clean up first, of course, and I don't really need you around for them, so I'll say bye for now." Willow raised her blade over Tara's heart, and waved with her other hand as she called out, "See you in a few, honey." She raised the dagger, and was starting to bring it down when she felt a sharp pain and heard the sound of a blade shearing through flesh and bone. She tried to turn, but instead fell helplessly on her back, her weapon falling to the floor next to her. With an effort, she turned her head to see her attacker, and saw Dawn standing there, the bloodstained Blade of the Nemesis resting in her shaking right hand as she glared down at the woman she had loved like a sister.  
  
In an instant, Willow knew the full extent of her folly. The magic she had used had been extremely effective against the merely human life forces of Xander Harris and Rupert Giles, and even the enhanced force of spirit possessed by a Slayer and a vengeance demon had proven to be no match for it. It had never occurred to her that, while Dawn's human form meant that she could be killed by most mundane means as easily as anyone, magic meant to drain or suppress her life force was grossly inadequate for the purpose of disabling her-it was more or less like trying to put out a forest fire with a glass of water. Dawn had regained consciousness, found the Blade, and simply walked up behind Willow while she was gloating and stabbed her through her black heart.  
  
Willow laughed as she felt her life slipping away. She looked up at Dawn and smiled as she whispered, "It's all so silly, isn't it?" Her eyes fluttered closed, and her body flared crimson before vanishing into a cloud of stinking ash that coalesced into the Tomes of the Necromancer.   
  
Dawn dropped the Blade of the Nemesis and started crying quietly. She felt a presence behind her, and Buffy's strong arms were around her as the Slayer led her sister over to Tara's stricken form. After a moment, Xander, Anya, and a staggering Giles joined them. Tara's eyes fluttered open, and she whispered, "Is it over?"  
  
Buffy nodded and elaborated, "Dawn did it. If she hadn't-"  
  
Tara nodded and looked up at Dawn, who stood silently, tears running down her cheeks as she looked down at her gravely wounded friend. The Nemesis smiled at the crying teenager, then looked back at Buffy and spoke in a clear but weak voice: "Buffy. . .I don't have much time, and I need you to do something for me."  
  
Buffy shook her head and replied, "We'll get you to the hospital, Tara. You'll be all right, I pro-"  
  
Tara shook her head and responded, "No, Buffy, that blade was tainted, and the wound is mortal. I only have a few moments left, and I need to tell you this." Buffy nodded, and Tara continued, "When I die, both the Nemesis and the Necromancer will be dead, with no trained successor for either. When I die, and the Tomes of the Nemesis appear, take them and the Tomes of the Dalorian Necromancer, bind them together with mala vines, and burn them. Do this, and the threat of the Necromancer will be gone forever-the opposing forces will be consigned to oblivion together."  
  
"No, Tara!" The voice was Dawn's, and the young woman dropped to her knees, her expression matching the pleading sound of her voice as she addressed the Nemesis: "Tara, we can burn the Tomes of the Nemesis and bring you back again, then hide the Tomes of the Necromancer. We can save you and still protect the world."  
  
Tara smiled sadly and replied weakly, "Like we did today? Willow only lost because she was careless, Dawn-we came within an eyelash of everyone here dying and the world being enslaved by a monster. It could happen again: someone could get the Tomes and learn their contents. . .or someone could burn them and bring Willow back." The occupants of the room shuddered at that concept, and Tara continued, "It's my job to stop the Necromancer, Dawn-and this time it will be forever. I have to do it, and I need your help. Please, help me do this."  
  
Dawn was silent, and Buffy nodded. Tara smiled appreciatively, then looked at Dawn again and whispered, "Dawnie? Promise me one more thing?" Dawn nodded slowly, and Tara gathered her dwindling strength to lock eyes with the younger woman and continued, "Don't hate her, Dawn. The Willow we loved wouldn't have wanted this to happen, and she loved all of us very much. Remember this day, but love her for what she was to us before."  
  
Dawn bowed her head and nodded once as tears flowed. Tara smiled, and her eyes flickered closed before she shimmered in white light and vanished, replaced by the Tomes of the Nemesis.   
  
The Magic Box was silent: no one moved until Spike staggered to his feet, having shaken off the last remnants of Willow's spell, and walked over to see the group of friends staring at the two sets of tomes, and Dawn cradled in Buffy's arms as they both cried.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
They gathered at the mansion where Angel had once lived: it was isolated and had a fireplace large enough for the burning. Spike had attempted to depart not long after Tara's death, but Buffy and Dawn had both quietly but firmly insisted that he stay, and Xander and Giles had not protested the request.  
  
Jonathan's body had been returned to his family, with the authorities explaining the death with the usual story of gang violence. Buffy felt a pang of failure: she had pulled Jonathan back from the edge before, by deed and example, and the fact that his death had been heroic did nothing to diminish the sadness it caused her. She had done her duty by Jonathan as best she could, however, and now she would do the same for Tara and Willow.  
  
Buffy made sure the mala vines were tightened, then deposited the bundle in the fireplace. The other five occupants of the room stood in a semicircle, watching silently. There would be a memorial service for Tara and Willow later: all had agreed that the gravity of this occasion would detract from their ability to say goodbye to them. Buffy met each of their gazes in turn, then ignited the taper in her hand and touched it to the kindling.  
  
The heavy tomes ignited almost instantly and burned fiercely. Buffy retreated to Giles' side, and the Watcher put his arm around her as they watched the flames grow brighter, illuminating the room in gold and crimson. As the conflagration reached its climax, two streaks of light burst from the flames. The first, a globe of black and scarlet flame, immediately disappeared through the floor with a sound much like a frustrated howl, causing the watchers to shiver. The other was a pulsing blob of white and gold: it paused for a moment before the group: Buffy had the oddest sense that it was smiling at her before it vanished through a wall. The flames in the fireplace died instantly after the second orb departed, leaving not so much as a wisp of ash to mark the passing of the two legendary artifacts.  
  
After a moment of silence, the observers filed out, walking into the night. Xander noticed Buffy slowing down and stopping rather than following the others back to the car that Giles had rented. He took a step toward her, only to see Buffy turn back to him and say quietly, "I need to be alone for a while, Xander. Take care of Dawn and the others for me?"  
  
Xander nodded and departed. Buffy turned back and looked out into the night: it was clear, and the stars shone brightly. After a few moments, she sighed and called out, "I should have known that you wouldn't take the hint, Spike."  
  
The vampire slipped out of the shadows and walked over to Buffy, carefully stopping short of invading her personal space. He looked at her and replied, "I'm still here because you asked me to be, Slayer. When you sent them away, I thought that you might have wanted to close the ledger regarding me without upsetting the Nib-Dawn." He swallowed hard, then added, "So, shall we do it here, or find a place with more room to maneuver?"  
  
Buffy looked at him, not pretending to misunderstand him. She looked away, then sighed and responded, "I thought about that, Spike. The chip is gone, and I can't watch you constantly. I trust you not to hu-" She paused in mid-sentence, then began again: "I trust you not to kill me, but if I die for good sometime soon, everyone I care about will be in danger again, and if you leave you'll start killing again. I know all of this: I don't need Giles, or Xander, or anyone else telling me for it to sink in. But I can't do it, Spike, I just can't. I've lost two of my dearest friends, and someone else that I thought I had made a difference for. I feel like everything I've fought for has been stupid and pointless, and my still being on this earth is due to things that never should have been allowed to happen. It's not that I want to be dead again, Spike: it's gone way past that. I just want to know why."   
  
Spike looked at her, and understood. He walked forward and touched her shoulder, and led her to a nearby bench, where they both sat quietly for a moment. Spike sighed, then looked at the Slayer and replied, "The world would make a lot more sense if Willow was sitting here, and it had been me who you had to face in a battle to the death to save the world. It'd sure as hell make more sense to me, Buffy. We've done our best to fight against the roles that have been handed to us, and we've had our share of victories. . .but sometimes we lose, sometimes we fail, and in the end, we're probably never going to know why."  
  
Buffy nodded, and turned back to him with glittering eyes before asking quietly, "You were going to do something when Willow brought you back here: do you still need to do it?"  
  
Spike hesitated for a moment, then nodded once. The Slayer looked at him and continued, "Swear to me that you won't kill anyone except to defend yourself while you're away, and I'll let you go finish what you were doing. If it involves killing me somehow. . .just promise that you'll come straight to me before anyone else when you come back. I'll give you a straight-up fight."  
  
Spike looked into her eyes, then nodded once before standing and turning to go. He paused at the exit and asked without turning, "Buffy. . .what makes you think I'll keep my word?"  
  
Buffy turned to him and was silent for a moment before replying, "Because you were right all along, Spike. It's always been a dance with us, and I know you won't miss the last one before the lights go out."  
  
Spike nodded again, then vanished into the darkness. Buffy looked after him for a moment, then turned back to the night sky, which remained serenely indifferent as its silver radiance glinted against the tears rolling down the face of the Slayer.  
  
  
  
As before, comments are welcome and desired. 


End file.
